


10. Taking Risks

by LiselleVelvet



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, compliant (ish) until 2x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiselleVelvet/pseuds/LiselleVelvet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry has no idea what he's doing. Ok, so that's nothing new, but the Rogues have to know something's up by now and Len still doesn't seem to have a clue. Of all the times for Captain Cold to know less about something than Barry, why did it have to be about this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	10. Taking Risks

Barry had no idea what to do. He was just going through the motions at work, dodging Joe, Iris, and Patty when they tried to ask him what was up. These past few months he’d usually work through things like this by messaging Top, but now…

 Top...Captain Cold...Len. Len was the reason he was so distracted in the first place. For real, though. He had no idea what to do. Len _had_ to have figured Barry out before that horrible mess of a fight. Right?

 There wasn’t any other reason for the Rogues to be weirdly concerned for him when Heat Wave managed to catch him off guard. Damn, but that stupid flamethrower hurt. And if it hadn’t been for Lisa’s quick reflexes, his entire left side would be a shiny golden statue.

 Barry rubbed both hands through his hair, lacing his fingers behind his neck. Crap. He really needed to pull himself together.

 Len _had_ to know that Barry was NerdsDoItBetter. Hell, Len probably figured it out _ages_ before Barry did and was just playing it cool. And even if he hadn’t, after their fight he’d continued to talk to Nerd as if nothing had changed. Which meant...what?

 That he enjoyed talking to Barry? It seemed like the most logical conclusion, but Len tended to operate on a logic all his own. That he kept the ruse going in the hope that Barry would provide Len with even more to use against him? Way more plausible. Definitely would’ve been the case early on, but it didn’t really fit with Len’s actions at the last fight... he still couldn’t believe the Rogues just walked away empty handed because Len...what? Thought he was too distracted?

 Of course, there was a third option. One that Barry was trying not to think about, because the last thing he needed was false hope. And besides...someone like Len could get whoever he wanted. The man was gorgeous, confident, intelligent, not to mention very protective and loyal when he cared. Pretty much everything Barry could ever want in a partner. But really, what would Len want with a nerd like him?

And while most of his published fics were (seriously hot) pwps about them blowing off steam after a heist or randomly hooking up at a bar, he knew that wasn’t all Len was interested in. Between the headcanons and RPing they did he _knew_ Len would be open to an actual relationship. He just didn’t think he deserved it. Which hurt Barry a hell of a lot more now that he knew those sentiments came from Len himself.

 Barry sighed, flopping onto his couch and covering his face with his favorite throw pillow. Thank god it was Friday. He had an _actual_ weekend, for once. Singh even took him off call, so as long as things didn’t go nuts, he had seventy-two hours to get his head out of his ass.

 He groaned, wondering for probably the millionth time how this was his life. Because...seriously. Somehow he always seemed to find himself in the craziest situations. Everything with his Mom and Dad, becoming the Flash. Iris. Finding one of his nemeses not repulsive--ok, hot. Len was hot.

 And ok, finding him attractive wasn’t the end of the world...kinda like admiring a celebrity. Or Oliver. Harmless because it’d never, ever be something that developed beyond wishful thinking. Yeah. Captain Cold was hot. And fun to go up against...especially after their deal. The villain had _style_ and really enjoyed himself, playing Captain Cold, outwitting and outpunning his opponents.

 It was part of the reason why Barry created the stupid tumblr account in the first place. After Iris somehow randomly stumbled into the fandom--that’s what he was telling himself, anyway, because the thought of Iris actively searching for things like his fictional sex life was NOT something he was prepared to consider--and forced Barry to take a look. What started as morbid curiosity soon became an outlet.

 A way for him to escape onto the internet. Forget that he was The Flash, if only for a little while. He hadn’t really gotten too invested until he started following WithColdOnTop. Len. Or, more accurately, when Len found his comic and started offering up suggestions, discussing headcanons for potential scenarios. Things grew from there. The way they can be online, where he can be completely anonymous and surprisingly open at the same time. Something he _craved_ since becoming The Flash.

 He had opened up to Top. A lot. Barry shifted the pillow to cushion the arm of the couch, scrubbing a hand through his hair.

 A lot a lot--about Iris, his dad, the mess with Patty...even some of the crap with Zoom. Not in those terms, of course, or with enough detail to give things away. But just enough to work through some things. Top had amazing insights. He was a strategic thinker, and it was so easy for him to detach his emotions to examine a situation--something Barry readily agreed that he sucked at. Maybe that should’ve been his first clue.

 Barry got up, throwing together a few sandwiches for something to do. His phone buzzed.

 He really, really shouldn’t check. If there was a problem Cisco would call. But by now he was conditioned to jump on the (very likely) chance that the notification indicated a message or post from Top. He was so very, very screwed. Might as well take a look.

 It was a post this time, not a message. An AO3 link to a new fic that Top--Len--just posted. Shit. He’d been tagged in the post, hence the notification.

 

**“Key to the City”**

**Summary:** _The Lightning Dome presents a new challenge for Cold, but not all targets are silver and gold._

 **@nerdsdoitbetter** _maybe you’re right and it’s time for a change._

 

Well...that was even more vague than usual. Barry bit his bottom lip, following the link.

 

 **Note:** _For NerdsDoItBetter; thought I’d try things your way--novel approach, I know._

 

Ok, that was different. Top--Len--didn’t usually bother with notes. At least not beyond the typical request for feedback and proofreading.

 Barry’s stomach was busy tying itself up in knots, but he took a deep breath and kept going. As though he really had the self-control to stop now. Oh, who was he kidding? Hopefully...he had no idea what to hope for, mostly because he was trying really hard not to get too far ahead of himself. Because he had a feeling that he’d only end up disappointed.

 Except...wow. Only a few lines in and the entire tone was different from everything else he’d read. It felt more like one of their headcanon brainstorming sessions than any of Len’s other fics.

 For one thing, there was more of a setup instead of beginning mid-fight. But an even bigger change was the amount of attention Len spent building and expressing the emotions involved. This wasn’t blowing off steam or a one-night-stand. This was...almost too good to be true.

 Barry put his phone down on his chest, trying to suppress a huge, goofy smile; tamp down the warmth spreading through him. Savoring the feeling while he replayed the last few paragraphs:

  _“You think too much, Len, let it go, just feel.”_

  _They were whispered, spoken close enough that he could feel Ryder’s hot breath ghosting across his flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake. Easing his tension, his frustrations, compelling him to comply, promising pleasures he could scarcely imagine. Ryder’s fingertips tracing tattoos and scars in such a way he didn’t want to pull back, never wanted it to end. Gentle but insistent. Possessive in the best way imaginable._

 It just got better as he read, Len _allowing_ himself to be pinned down, however gently, letting Barry (well, Ryder) take the lead. Welcoming his touch, encouraging it instead of shying away to limit the contact between them.

 He kept going, each new sentence, new paragraph just made him want Len more. It made him hope--hope that there were feelings involved, hope that their friendship would survive, hope that it could become so much more. Because—

 His phone rang. Cisco had the worst timing ever.

 Barry sighed and answered. Hopefully it wasn’t a huge disaster.

 “What’s up, Cisco?”

 “Hey man, sorry to interrupt your night in. The security at STAR Labs just flickered. D’you mind checking it out?”

 “Um, sure. But aren’t you still there?” he asked, checking the time.

 “No...not exactly? I mean, something awesome came up so I left early. “ Barry could hear Cisco’s wide grin.

 The speedster shook his head with a short laugh, “Really now? Anything I should know about?”

 “No. Well...I prolly won’t be around much tomorrow, either. Hopefully.”

 “Good for you. Have fun on your--” he almost choked at the voice he heard next.

 “C’mon, Cisco. Our table’s ready.”

 Barry _knew_ that voice. Cisco spent the last five days practically living at the Lab, when had he run into her long enough for them to make plans? And why did this whole thing feel familiar?

 “Lisa Snart? Your date is Lisa Snart?” He had to ask.

 “Um...yes?”

 Well, he probably should’ve seen that coming. Lisa had been spending more time around their regular haunts in Central ever since they helped with her horrible excuse for a father. “Use protection. And if I don’t hear from you by noon, I’ll send out a search party.”

 Cisco sputtered indignantly, but he wasn’t the one to reply. “Don’t worry your leather-clad ass, Flash. I promise to return him in one piece. Go have fun,” Lisa hung up on him.

 He stared at his phone in disbelief, shaking his head. He probably wouldn’t need to rescue Cisco from Lisa a second time, especially since it sounded like his friend walked into the situation willingly.

 It felt familiar, though...oddly similar to--oh. For real?

 Barry opened the browser again, scrolling back to the beginning where, sure enough. There was the date.

 Elsa (Barry could not stop snickering at the obvious _Frozen_ reference Len chose for the fic version of Lisa) was involved in the plan, too. Len had her bumping into ‘Crusher’ (real name Wesley, aka Cisco, god, Len was such a dork--if Cisco ever found out about his alter ego Barry thought he’d be simultaneously pleased and annoyed at the choice) and wheedling a dinner-date out of him to make sure that the Lightning Dome was empty.

 Was that...was Len really setting up a  meeting like the one in the fic? That was all sorts of exciting. Unless...but no. Barry read through the fic once more, slowly. Trying to come up with _any_ other explanation without success.

 Len called him _Scarlet_ . He knew. He had to know. Especially since he went out of his way to avoid color-based nicknames in fandom. It was _their_ thing and Barry liked to think Len avoided it to keep it special.

 So...was this special? He really, really hoped so.

 Barry took a deep breath, steeling himself, before zipping off to STAR Labs.

 XXXXX

 Len’s phone beeped--Lisa texting him to let him know that Cisco made the call. That Barry was on his way.

 He wasn’t ready. Probably never would be. Len shrugged out of his parka, folding it neatly and placing the cold gun on top. This wasn’t just another dance; another showdown between The Flash and Captain Cold. It was a beginning. A chance that Len knew he didn’t deserve.

 But that was nothing new. Over the years he got comfortable--familiar--with the idea of taking what he wanted, earned or otherwise. This was different.

 He opened up, made himself vulnerable in more ways than one. Barry should pick up on that. He was much...better when it came to emotions.

 It was a quality of the Scarlet Speedster that Len initially derided, a weakness he exploited. Now, though...now he relied on that empathy. Needed it more than anything.

 Except he was still alone. Five minutes--three hundred seconds--elapsed since Lisa’s text. Len knew it only took Barry a maximum of two minutes to reach S.T.A.R. Labs from anywhere in Central.

 Len tightened his hand around the key to Central City. Not fidgeting. Staring at the trinket with unseeing eyes, trying to quiet his racing mind.

 Seven minutes. He did not pace a circuit around the cortex. No matter how much he wanted to. Feeling restless and impatient like never before.

 The cortex was quiet, dark. Dimly illuminated by the emergency exit sign and flickering lights on the computer terminals. And the spotlight on the Flash suit. Made the costume look dignified, imposing. Static. Wrong.

 With Barry in it, the suit, _The Flash_ was always moving. Forever changing. Too quick to follow. Never that still.

 Stillness, calm, patience--those were qualities Len cultivated. Relied on. But here, now, he was restless. Full of uncontained energy.

 He continued pacing.

 Ten. Ten minutes. Six hundred seconds. Len walked back to his parka and gun. Barry must not be coming. Len tried not to be disappointed, but failed.

 Knew that this whole thing was a long shot. A risk. Making himself...open up was a calculated move. It obviously hadn’t paid off. Unsurprising, really. Barry could -- and should -- have so much more, do so much better. Better than him, with his broken pieces and stunted emotions.

 Len sighed heavily. He was already there, might as well wait a bit longer. Had nowhere else to be. He perched on the edge of the table, facing the Flash suit in its niche. Toying with the key. Twirling it between his fingers as he contemplated… all of it.

 The challenge presented by The Flash, his gun, their uneasy truce. The way Barry always saw something _else,_ something _more_ to Len. Something he could not, would not, see within himself.

 He thought… had hoped that this would be another example of that. Of Barry seeing more to Len, trusting him again. Even though Len didn’t deserve, would never ask, for that kind of faith.

 Twelve minutes since the text. Seven hundred and thirty seconds. This was a mistake.

 Len would allow himself to stay for another three minutes. Three minutes, and then force himself to leave. To move on and give up—

 Soft footsteps sounded in the hallway, getting louder before Len could convince himself that he was imagining things.

 Barry. Looking hesitant and confused… and hopeful. There was so much cautious hope in his hazel eyes that Len couldn’t breathe. Just for a moment, when their eyes met. No costumes or personas between them. Just space. And a key.

 “Why?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this whole thing was SO MUCH FUN. Fellow authors, your contributions are amazing, Aunt Crimson, thank you for wrangling all of us and tying things all together. 
> 
> Please let us know what you think (and also feel free to point out typos and grammar issues that were overlooked)


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